


The Perfect Day

by Crysania



Series: 100 follower prompt-a-thon [11]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:36:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>autumnssnowylioness prompted: FTL, Belle wishes to see snow, Rum, having developed a soft spot for his little maid, transports them to a land where she can experience it first hand (in my head canon it doesn’t snow near Rum’s castle) and then fluffy stuff happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a super old prompt from my 100 follower prompt-a-thon that I somehow missed during the first round and then took forever to get to. I ended up writing it for Fluffapalooza 2014. Happy 2 years to all my fellow Rumbellers!

She had been at the castle for well over a month now. It was situated near a mountain pass, the entire area nearly devoid of plant life, only a few prickly cactuses and hardy bushes hanging onto the dry soil. She had asked him once why the area was so empty and he had given her a sneering look. _It’s a desert, dearie. What else did you expect?_ She didn’t have an answer for that, not really at least. She had come from the far west of the continent, where temperatures were mild and the area lush and green. Snow had fallen only once that she could remember and then it had been a few flakes that quickly melted. She often dreamed of seeing snow-covered hills and when she was brought to the Dark Castle, high in the mountains, she thought she’d at least see that much.

But nothing. The Dark Castle was located in a barren mountain desert. It barely rained. It never snowed. The sun shone mercilessly down. She would have thought dark clouds would have hung over it, considering the name, but instead the sky was always a brilliant blue. It seemed that the darkness of the Dark Castle came from within.

It was tiring after awhile, the sameness of it. She never thought she’d miss rainy days and cold snaps, but she found that she did.

Her days inside the castle at least kept her from worrying too much about the boredom of watching the outdoors. Rumplestiltskin was enigmatic, a mystery she had only just peeled a thin layer off of. She wasn’t sure she’d ever see what was deep inside his heart, though she was sure he would remind her that there was nothing there except a dead lump of coal. But she knew otherwise. Somewhere, deep down inside, hid a good man.

That particular day Rumplestiltskin was spinning, his wheel sitting atop a slightly raised platform in the darkest corner of the room. He tended to gravitate to wherever was darkest at that moment. She’d seen the wheel in many different places, depending on which direction the sun was coming from and which curtain she had managed to open. Today he was near the fireplace, the only warm part of the room. It was frigid outside and she could see the wind moving the scattered bushes around, nearly flattening them on occasion.

But still that blue sky. Still the complete lack of snow. She knew it would never snow. He had told her as much. But she still _wished_.

“What are you doing?” His voice came from too close behind her and she turned to face him. She hadn’t heard the wheel stop, hadn’t heard him rise and walk near her. He was always doing that, sneaking up on her. She used to be startled by it and she knew he took great joy in the way she’d jump when finding him far too close to her. But then she had gotten used to it and he had retreated a bit, stayed out of her personal space. It must not be too much fun to find the object of his torment not the least bit concerned about his presence.

“Just watching the great outdoors.”

Leaning over her shoulder, he brushed the curtain a little further aside and looked out, taking in the expanse of desert outside his castle walls. She was fairly certain he never looked outside. She wasn’t even sure he really knew what the area around them _looked_ like. The curtains were all drawn and when he left on deals, he left on the wings of magic. She couldn’t remember his actually setting foot out the front door of the castle, actually leaving like an ordinary man. He’s _not_ ordinary. Belle knew this. If he had been ordinary, her people would not have called on him. _She_ would not have made a deal to save them all. But she still somehow expected him to do _something_ ordinary. He was a man after all, steeped in dark magic and with an impish giggle she’d never heard the likes of before, but he was _still_ just a man. So far he had done nothing that she expected.

“Hmph,” was all he said to the view before turning away once more.

“It’s not very inspiring,” Belle said in agreement, letting the curtain drop. She couldn’t quite keep the wistful note out of her voice. Oh, she tried. She always tried, taking quick glances out the window and always hoping for some sort of change. Usually she managed to succeed in hiding that hope, but today it crept into her voice unbidden.

She watched Rumplestiltskin freeze in his path away from her, his shoulders stiffening just a bit. The look in his eyes was inscrutable when he glanced back at her. “Bored, are we?”

“No, of course not!” How could she be bored in the castle of the world’s most famous sorcerer? “Just…”

“Yes?” He sounded amused and she found herself taking a deep breath, grateful that he wasn’t, so far, angry with her.

“Snow,” she mumbled and watched one of his eyebrows rise.

“Do you mean the Princess on the lam or the weather phenomenon?”

Belle giggled. She only knew of Snow White by reputation, had heard only soon before coming to be the Dark One’s companion that she was hiding out from the Queen. She had only seen the wanted poster because Rumplestiltskin brought her one, his eyes dark and hooded. She had felt her heart go out to the young woman who was hiding out in the woods, fearing for her life, far from the comforts of home. Rumplestiltskin had not been willing to offer her sanctuary and she had spent two days holed up in the library refusing to talk to him until he finally admitted he had plans in the work to help her when the time was right.

He was a good man. He just didn’t know it yet.

“I meant the weather.”

Rumplestiltskin snorted and turned away, one hand dismissively waving in the air. “Are we on _that_ one again?”

“We are,” Belle muttered. She had asked after snow soon after her arrival. When the temperatures dropped, she had asked again. She hadn’t quite realized it had become such a refrain, but somehow she wasn’t surprised that Rumplestiltskin had been aware of it. He seemed to catch onto _everything_. The time she caught the oven mitt on fire and tucked it away at the bottom of the drawer. The time she had shrunk his leather pants and hid them in the back of her own wardrobe. The time she had accidentally spilled one of his potions. Alright, that one she expected him to notice. Her hands _had_ turned purple after all. But she had diligently hid them in gloves for the day. She had been mortified when he’d simply used magic to remove her gloves and then laughed. For the rest of the day. He said he _could_ fix it with magic and left it at that. The color had finally disappeared a few days later and no harm was brought to her. _You’re lucky it was inert, dearie, or your fate might have been much worse._ He never told her what would happen, but she was _much_ more careful the next time she cleaned his tower and she guessed that was all he really wanted.

He hadn’t quite gotten to his wheel again when he stopped and heaved a big sigh. Belle felt her lips quirk up in a small smile. She knew that sigh. She knew it all too well.

“I see you’re never going to let this go.” He looked over his shoulder at her, his wild hair falling into his eyes as he did so. Belle always thought he looked somewhat rakish when he did that. And he often did, walking away from her and finally turning back toward her when he thought of something to say. Sometimes it was in the midst of one of their many arguments, sometimes something that almost had a flirtatious bent. Today it was frustration.

And she knew what that meant. “Probably not!” she said brightly, only to hear him sigh once more.

He turned, briskly, took a few steps away from her before stopping and looking back once more. “Well?”

“Well, what?” She felt her eyebrows draw slightly together. Rumplestiltskin was always enigmatic. Sometimes she felt like she was beginning to figure him out. Sometimes he acted like _this_.

“You don’t want to join me?” One of his eyebrows was raised as he faced her once more.

“Join…”

“Yes.”

“Where?” She felt the frustration rising. She had many conversations that went just like this with him. They often cut each other off, often tripped over each other’s sentence. She hadn’t been there long, but it already _felt_ like she had been there forever.

He gave an exasperated sigh. “Do you want to see snow or not?” She started to open her mouth to speak and he held up one hand. “And I don’t mean the princess.”

“Really?” The excitement started to creep into her voice.

“Yes, yes. We’ll get you what you want and then maybe you’ll stop with this incessant prattling about the weather.” He waved one hand in the air.

“Prattling?”

He flitted around her for a moment. “No, this won’t do,” he murmured. Belle just rolled her eyes as, with a flourish on the part of her companion, she was engulfed in purple smoke. When it cleared and she opened her eyes again, she was dressed in much warmer clothing, her feet were encased in warm leather boots lined with wool, and Rumplestiltskin was standing before her, his hand held out with a thick cloak dangling from it. His grin was slightly maniacal and yet at the same time Belle knew he was pleased with himself.

She had come to see that look enough in her time there to know when the magic made him happy. The small tittering noise he made as he draped the cloak around her shoulders and pulled the hood up over her head said it all.

He loved his magic. And he seemed to love it most when the results pleased _him_. He quickly fastened her cloak, his hands brushing her throat as he did so. She started at the contact. Rarely did he touch her, even by accident. He paused for a moment as his skin came in contact with hers and his eyes widened as he drew back.

“Well then…” He cleared his throat. “It seems we’re ready for our little adventure.” He held out one arm and Belle stepped closer, wrapping her arm about his. “Shall we?”

She nodded and felt the almost familiar pull of his magic wrap around her. As she felt the world fall away, she turned into him, wrapped her other arm around his waist, and let the magic take them wherever he commanded it to.

* * *

The purple smoke of Rumplestiltskin’s magic cleared from around them and Belle opened her eyes, awkwardly stepping away from where she was wrapped tightly around the sorcerer. She loved that his magic could take them to someplace new in mere moments but the feeling of it, the way the world faded and she felt the ground drop out from underneath her, always left her feeling unsettled.

The feeling of being so close to Rumplestiltskin also left her feeling unsettled and so she brushed her hands down her skirt and turned away from him.

“Oh.” They were standing atop a cliff, the bright sun shining onto the snow-covered valley below them. “Where are we?”

Rumplestiltskin came to stand close by her. “Far to the south.”

She turned to look at him for a moment and was surprised to see the look on his face almost peaceful, appreciative of the view. “It looks like no one has ever been here.” The valley showed no signs of human settlement, the paths through the wooded areas the narrow meandering ones generally created by woodland creatures, instead of the straight, wide paths created by humans. They weren’t scars in the valley, but rather a natural part of it.

“They haven’t.”

“No one?”

“Not in all the time I’ve been alive.” He held up a hand. “It’s a long time, that’s all I’ll say.” There was a smile playing about his lips and Belle found herself grinning in response. She had always had a sense that he was ancient. The stories she had read of him, before her people had called on him, had gone generations back. All evidence pointed to his being immortal and sometimes she wondered what “forever” really meant. It was the one part of their deal she had never clarified, too afraid of the answer.

They fell into a companionable silence for a time. It was strange, she realized, that one who was supposed to be so frightening could be such a good companion. They had their arguments, there was no doubt about that, though even those had relaxed somewhat since the whole incident with the thief. After their return from his attempt at hunting the thief down, it seemed like everything started to change between them. He still suffered from black moods, still had a hair-trigger temper, but he had relaxed in her presence. She read. He spun. And the world passed them by in their little haven.

The wind picked up slightly and Belle drew her cloak tighter around herself. The wind was bitter, there on top of the cliff, but the cloak he had given her cut out the worst of it. The boots were warm, almost _too_ warm and she suspected there was magic involved there. But he kept none of the cold away from her face. She could feel her cheeks stinging as the wind struck them, knew they’d be red in no time, chapped from the breeze in a land that no others had seen.

The trees near her swayed and dipped with the gusts of air, jostling the snow that sat atop their branches and causing it to fall. Belle gasped. As the snow flowed off the branches, it caught the light from the sun’s low rays, lighting up in a shower of golden snowflakes. As each tree bowed, releasing the snow from its branches, the flakes would swirl around each other briefly before dissipating.

“I wish it could…”

Rumplestiltskin made a slight huffing noise, his hand coming up quickly to stop her.

And then the world slowed down. The breeze seemed lighter, the trees bowed in slow motion, and the snow flowed off the trees and came to a near complete stop. Like animated fairy dust, they swirled and dipped slowly, wrapping around each other in an intricate dance that Belle found mesmerizing. She couldn’t look away.

“How are you doing this?” She didn’t actually mean to utter the breathless words, but they came out anyway.

“Magic, of course.” She could see the small crinkle at the corner of his eyes as he glanced briefly at her.

“I didn’t know magic could…”

“Hush.” The word was spoken on a mere whisper. “No more questions.”

They remained there, in their quiet, half-frozen world, watching the snow dance in the light until the sun began to lower, the colors changing first to pastel pinks and blues before deepening to reds and oranges. She had no sense of time up there in their little haven. It could have been minutes or hours that they stood in silent contemplation of the view. Darkness was encroaching on the valley below, creeping up the sides of it toward the cliff they stood on. The sun, half a ball of bright orange, was close to sinking below the mountains in the distance when he finally spoke again.

“We should return.”

Belle nodded, finally looking away from the scene. As she did so, she could see it speed up, the magic of the moment lost as the world began to turn as it normally did.

“I’m not…”

“Ready?” She watched the corner of his mouth quirk up. “I know.” He reached one hand up, almost touching her cheek. “But if we stay here any longer I’m going to have to find some sort of lotion to soothe your cheeks.”

He was worried about her. Belle smiled, feeling the tightness of her wind-burned cheeks as she did so. “I’m afraid you may be right.” She didn’t dare remove her mittens to see how bad it really was, but she had a feeling they were bright red and would sting once they were back in the comfortable warmth of the Great Room.

“Ready to go?”  He held out an arm.

Belle nodded, linking her arm with his as they disappeared on wings of magic.

* * *

They reappeared in the Great room, almost exactly where they had left earlier that day. Belle stepped away immediately when she felt the solid ground beneath her, releasing his arm to undo the clasp on the cloak. Almost as soon as she removed it, it disappeared in a small puff of smoke.

Her eyes met his and he shrugged.

“It was magic to start with. It’s gone back to where it came from.” The words were serious.

“And the price?”

“None.”

“It always comes with a…”

“Not this time. Not for you.” He turned away for a moment. She didn’t want to know what price he paid for the magic to transport them so far away, to slow the world down so that she could enjoy it longer. And it seemed he wasn’t willing to tell her.

She bent down to remove the boots, watching those disappear as her own shoes reappeared next to her. Looking back up at him, she smiled and then grimaced slightly. Her cheeks were starting to burn as they warmed up. “I must be bright red.”

“You are.”

She bit her lip and her eyes slid away from his. “I should have been more careful.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment, choosing perhaps wisely not to comment on such a thing. “Perhaps you would like some hot cocoa to warm up?”

“I would like that very much.” He returned her smile, that strange shy look she’d seen playing about his lips on more than one occasion in the past week. Turning to leave, he got no further than a few steps away before Belle spoke again. “And the lotion?”

He studied her face for a moment. “Yes, it does appear that the redness is not going away.” He strode quickly from the room before she had another chance to speak, returning moments later with the lotion and two mugs of steaming hot cocoa. “It contains something called aloe. It will help soothe the burn.”

She waited to see if he would offer to apply it and saw the way he held himself back, sitting in the chair nearest the fire and looking away from her. She sighed. He still was uncomfortable with touch and she would not push him. It was perhaps enough for now that he offered her his arm when transporting by magic, his hand when helping her out of the carriage. He played the gallant when the role was called for, but otherwise kept to himself.

She quickly applied the lotion herself, wiping her hands on the small towel he had provided when done, and picked up her mug of hot cocoa.

They settled into a companionable silence as they sipped at their drinks, staring into the ever-changing movement of the fire. It was a quiet, perfect end to an utterly perfect day.


End file.
